Your Mission, Should You Choose To Accept It
by who1roman4
Summary: Quinn Fabray was finally living her own life, but Santana Lopez just had to show up at her door and turn her world inside out. Secret!Agents, World Ending Drama, Secrets, Faberry, Brittana and more. Mission Impossible Glee Style. More summary inside.
1. Mission Oh HELL No

**So once again I'm writing more than one fanfic at once (**_**Forever More would be my other one**_**), but I got this idea the other day and I am really, really excited to write about it. I think it will be a lot of fun. **

**Basically as the summary said; its Mission Impossible Glee style. Quinn Fabray is finally content with her life until an old friend, Santana Lopez shows up at her door. Quinn's life is then turned inside out as she enters the world of spies and espionage finding secrets and romance along the way. But when old secrets emerge, will what started out as a career change end up in a possible fight to save the world? Read along in this action/adventure/thriller/romance/comedy and find out how the gleeks handle the CIA****. **

**Soooo, yeah. I've got a lot of ideas for how this will go. It's established Brittana and eventual Faberry. I imagine a bunch of other glee characters will work themselves in as well. It's also a future fic, not an AU so the history is all there, which I really like in future fics because I love the interactions of the characters. I will try to keep all characters cannon, so let me know what you think of them! I'm also hoping to turn this into a suspense thriller with tons of romance (the good kind) and good comedy! I definitely see this going to an M rating as the chapters go on. So yeah, give it a try. **

**So without further adieu, I present chapter one: Mission, Oh HELL No of Your Mission, Should you Choose To Accept It.**

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><p>If anyone were to look at her, they would all say that Santana Lopez was definitely not happy. The angry strides combined with her fear inducing scowl had everyone on the fifth floor of Langley re-evaluating who scared them more: Agent Lopez or their boss.<p>

As Santana marched through the corridor back to her own office, she almost had to smirk at her fellow _agents_ ducking out of her way. God it felt _damn _good to be feared. It reminded her of her High School years and the way the crowd would part like the red fucking sea for her. She had always enjoyed such perks of the school of fish that was McKinley High.

Reaching her door, Santana rolled her eyes at the thought. Irony was such a bitch. It was because of that damn High School that she was in the situation she was in now. And to think, when she had drove to work that morning she thought getting a promotion was a good thing.

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><p>Santana Lopez had woken up that morning feeling pretty good about life. She had a great job, an incredibly gorgeous and sexy girlfriend, and pretty much anything else a smokin' hot 25 year old secret agent could want.<p>

That's right. Santana Lopez, was a badass spy.

As far as career choices were, Santana always figured she'd become a lawyer or something like that. She was smart and she could talk or argue her way out of just about anything, even in elementary school. It had always seemed like the obvious choice. So when she'd taken the LSAT in her senior year at Berkley, she figured her life was pretty clear.

She would graduate with a BA from Berkley double majoring in Poli Sci and minoring in linguistics and then apply to Law School in California to stay close to her High School sweetheart Britney Pierce. Then she'd graduate from Law School, join a big firm, and someday become a partner. All while Brittney pursued her career in dance. She'd make a good deal of money and she and Brit-Brit could do whatever they wanted. Life was a dream.

It would be a simple life and Santana Lopez hadn't been about to complain. Sure she liked a little excitement in life, but Brittney was more than willing to fulfill that in the bedroom. Santana could definitely live with that.

So when a woman in a black and white track suit and aviators had shown up at her door one day and practically manhandled her into the back seat of a black sedan, Santana Lopez was pissed.

When the woman "reviled" herself seconds later to be a one Sue Sylvester offering her a job with the CIA because she'd scored tremendously high on the secret spy test on the LSAT, it was all Santana could do to not howl with laughter at the clearly deranged woman.

It was only after Santana had seen the private jet, CIA headquarters, and "Chief" Sylvester's private office in Langley that the Latina's laughter was effectively silenced.

Of course since Sue was never one to leave anything to chance, she'd already recruited Brittney who was more than enthusiastic to "play spy" every day with her Sany, the brunette skeptically agreed to the offer.

Santana and Brittney were immediately transported to live in DC and inducted into the CIA after completing training. As expected, Santana quickly proved to be one of the division's most valuable assets; completing more missions with more success than any other agent in the field. In fact, the girl had ranked higher than any other agent ever had at her age. A fact she was damn well worthy of, after all, she was Santana Lopez.

So when she'd caught wind of a promotion heading her way, Santana was unbelievably stoked. Brittney had told her all night that she had a sneaking suspicion that she was going to get her own team. If that were the case, Santana couldn't fucking wait. Ever since her days as a Cheerio, she'd learned to covet that top spot and to be honest, she couldn't wait to have people she could boss around again. Indeed life was great.

That is until she strolled in to Chief Sylvester's office on Monday morning with a smirk on her face and listened to her former cheerleading coach lay out her first assignment as the Alpha squad's team leader.

"Oh HELL no, you want me to WHAT?" Santana shouted, the smug look having dropped of her face to be replaced with one of disbelief and rage.

"Well now Boobs McGee, you couldn't possibly believe I'd trust you to choose your own team now would you? You'd just pick your fellow clam diver and a few others of the pathetic crybabies so you could boss them around. Now although I feel the urge to applaud your intention to humiliate the disgraces that call themselves agents, this team will answer only to one Sue Sylvester and I require absolute perfection." Sue drawled sarcastically.

Santana rolled her eyes hard.

"Oh for fuck sakes, I never got a boob job! And why not, every other team leader gets to! Besides old lady, you must have a brain tumor from all that trophy shine if you think that I'll agree to this!"

The two had truly developed an odd relationship since Santana had started working for Sue. The two often argued extremely unprofessionally, and sometimes the other agents would whisper that they fought like mother and daughter, well, with the addition of inappropriate name calling.

"Now I find that statement insulting." Sue paused, lowering her glasses down the ridge of her nose. "Your chest reeks of inauthenticity." Santana glared while Sue, unaffected, returned her glasses to their original place.

"Furthermore, if you hope to keep your job, I suggest you locate and retrieve the package and have them here by eight hundred sharp tomorrow morning."

Santana fought to keep herself from throwing a nearby stapler at a one Sue Sylvester's face. Instead she used a trick she'd learned from her years as a spy: manipulation.

"Well if _you_ wants to keep your best agent, then I suggest you lets me keep Brit-Brit on my team." The Latina sneered advancing on her superior.

Her boss eyed her from behind her glasses. It almost brought joy to her heart to see so many traits that reminded her of a young Sue Sylvester in her agent. Well it was that or heart burn from the extreme taco her maid Consuella had made for her that morning. At any rate, those traits: perfection, superiority, and ruthlessness were among her favorites, a large reason why she needed the spitfire to succeed on this mission. She also had a feeling that the Latina was also the only one that could do it.

Besides, she really didn't care if Pierce was on her Alpha squad. The girl _was_ after all the second best agent she ever recruited. It just slipped her mind so often because when she wasn't blowing stuff up, infiltrating secret bases, or shooting four people at the same time, Agent Pierce appeared about as imposing a fat man in an Easter bunny costume.

"Fine. Keep the dew-lapper." Sue said disinterestedly. "Now get out of my office, your terrible rendition of the English language is killing off my brain cells by the second."

"Yes Ma'am." Santana supplied lazily, before shoving her chair backwards and marching out of the office.

Santana pulled out her com and ran her fingers over the screen, bringing up her new team list. Apparently the chief had already edited it adding Britney to the list.

As if on cue, the bubbly Dutch girl bounded into the office and wrapped her long arms around the dark skinned girl's neck.

"I knew you could do it Sany! Now I get to be on your team!" She chirped happily.

Santana couldn't help but smile at her girlfriend. That did make this situation a lot better. It especially made the situation better when Brittney's lips whispered against her ear, "That means you're my boss and you can tell me to do whateevverr you want." She finished by nipping the brunette's ear and pulled back with an innocent smile.

"Dios mio, mi amor." Santana mumbled with a shiver. "The things you do to me…" Having Brittney on her team _definitely _made things better, the Latina thought before thinking of just what she could _order_ Brittney to do later that night. She was unwillingly dragged from those thoughts as Brittney sat at her desk and scrolled through her com.

"Hey Sany, who's Agent code name: Porcelain and what's mission Q?"

Santana groaned. Yeah, the fantasy she'd just been writing in her brain was so not happening tonight.

"Porcelain is my new Hacker and Intel specialist. Apparently he's some genius from the second floor in the anti-terror division. I don't know how Sylvester got him pulled onto my team, but whatever. He's supposed to be the best." She relayed the speech she'd gotten from the chief to her girlfriend who nodded thoughtfully.

"And Mission Q," the agent paused and rolled her eyes. Seriously, did their Sue really think she was clever in their mission names? "Is our first mission and by the time the Chief is done with her, our newest field agent."

"OOO!" Brittney squealed. "That sounds like fun! Is she like, super-duper special or something cause we have to go pick her up? Or is it cause she's in jail and we have to break her out like they always do in the movies? Or is she a double agent who-"

"No Babe," Santana said sweetly, cutting off her girlfriend before the girl's ideas got too extreme. "Nothing like that."

'_Definitely nothing like that' _Santana thought as her confusion and distain from the conversation with the chief resurfaced. She sighed as Britney watched her with rampant attention.

"The package is in New Haven, Connecticut and her identity is Quinn Fabray."

Brittney blinked twice before cocking her head to the side. She stared back at her girlfriend and remained silent for a good minute.

Her gaze traveled up and down her girlfriend's amazing body. God she looked good in a suit. Today it was the all black slacks, the curvy fit, a white tank top, and a tight fitting blazer. All of it curved to her body in _all_ the right places and was just so sharp. Working for the CIA and having a Sexy Agent girlfriend _seriously _had its perks.

She especially liked when Santana wore suits because she liked to unbutton the jacket teasingly slow while kissing Santana's neck after a long day of work. When she'd finished with the buttons, she'd trail her hands up the Latina's sexy stomach, feeling the trained abs beneath her undershirt, higher until she reached her favorite pair of-

"Brit Brit?" Santana tore the blonde from her day dream with a confused expression on her face.

"Quinn would look really good in a suit." Brittney supplied with a shrug.

Santana's confusion only grew until she noticed her girlfriend's eyes return to her chest. The Latina smirked to herself. _'Wearing a suit today was such a good idea._'

Although a lot of people thought Brittney was a little slow, Santana had finally figured out in their first year of college why the Dutch blonde often had a faraway expression on her face. It wasn't her fault, the girl just got…distracted rather easily. On her part, Santana could hardly complain. It had always led to a lot of quick sessions in the bathroom and locker room as well as a good ole romp in the janitor's closet in between periods.

"I guess so B, but you don't think she would look better than me do you?" Santana said, stalking towards her girlfriend slowly, her tone of mock worry.

"Don't be silly San…You're way hotter in a suit." Brittney said easily from her spot in Santana's chair.

The brunette smirked as she stepped over Brittney to sit across the taller girl's lap.

"Are you sure? Cause you were looking at me, but you were talking about Q." She taunted in the blonde's ear.

Brittney smiled, her lips curling as she pressed it to her favorite spot on her girlfriend's neck. The Latina's breath caught audibly near her ear as she ran her hands up the woman's stomach under her shirt and grasped the darker woman's chest.

"You're so good with your hands." The Latina smirked in a whisper when she realized that all jacket buttons had already been undone.

Kissing her way up to a tan ear Brittney whispered, "Are you only noticing that now?" Her lips enclosing on the soft earlobe and sucking lightly, the blonde was unsure whether her words or actions drew a husky moan from her partner. She decided it didn't matter.

Her hands were just about to make their way to the clasps of Santana's slacks when an air horn sounded through the room causing both girls to jump and Santana to fall on the floor, knocking her head against the glass desk.

"What the FU-"

A barking voice accompanied by Chief Sue's face appeared on the telecom still on Santana's desk.

"Lopez! I said eight hundred sharp tomorrow morning. If you're one second late because you couldn't stay out of each other's pants long enough, YOU'RE FIRED! Now get down to the computer nerd's office before I have both of you castrated!" And with that, the Sue's face blanked out.

Sitting up and rubbing her head, Santana glowered over at her com. "I swear that bitch has me bugged or something!" She groaned before pulling herself off.

The door to her office slammed open to reveal said woman in her "work" track suit, "I heard that Lopez and I expect all my trophies hand polished once you get back from the mission or you can kiss that bonus as well as the Ferrari goodbye! Now get to work!" She barked before disappearing as quickly as she came.

"That was weird…" Brittney said before collecting her shocked girlfriend. "Come on, let's go visit the robots." She chirped, pulling behind a still somewhat shocked and confused girlfriend.

Somewhere between the fifth and second floor, Santana had resigned to the fact that Sue Sylvester, Cheerleading coach or Chief of the Covert Agents Division, simply heard and saw absolutely everything.

It really was a pain in the ass though. She couldn't count how many times her work place sexy-times had been interrupted thanks to Chief Sue's uncanny ability to always know what was going on. Okay so maybe the CIA wasn't the best place to get it on, but that really only made it hotter. Who was she kidding? Having sex in the middle of the CIA was just plain badass. Sometimes she wished she still kept in touch with some of her old high school friends like Puck, just so she could rub it in his face.

But as annoying as it was, Santana still had a job to do.

"Hello?" Santana spoke to the dark room with blinking lights on large steal machines and countless monitors.

Maybe Brittney had been right when she said they were going to go visit the robots. This place was seriously like something straight out of some sci fi movie that kids like Jew-Fro and Artie pretended to be from.

"Well, well, well. Look who we have here." A twinkling voice echoed from the back of the room. "If it isn't the queen bees, Santana Lopez and Brittney Pierce in the flesh."

Santana _knew_ that voice. It reminded her of obnoxious fashion and…Beyoncé?

"San, how does the robot know our names?" Brittney huddled a little closer to her girlfriend.

A twinkling chuckle filled the room as a few lights switched on; illuminating an immaculately, clean cut young man in a perfectly tailored blue suit and black tie.

"I guess some things never change, do they?"

"No. Fucking. Way." Santana gaped at the young boy. "Hummel?" Sure, porcelain should have been a dead giveaway, but since when was Kurt good with computers? Artie she could understand, but this was just plain random.

"Eloquent as ever, Ms. Lopez." Kurt smiled warmly.

He'd been expecting the two after receiving the call from Chief Sylvester herself. To say that he was surprised would be an understatement. Granted he knew the two were in the CIA; he did have access to all of the records after all, but he never expected to be on the same team as either one of them ever again.

Not that he had a problem with it. By senior year their group had become at least amicable with one another. To say he was eager to work with Satan herself was perhaps pushing it, but it was nice to see old friends again. Besides, they were the top field agents to be recruited in years. It would be an exciting change from hacking emails and tracking phone calls. Those tasks were completely beneath someone of his talent. He really despised the Patriot Act.

Joining the CIA had really been more of a fluke than anything else. After realizing his talent for computers and his nifty habit of catching any news worthy tale of gossip, he'd made quite a name for himself hacking into the plans of countless designers. Well, that and hacking into Sue Sylvester's personal computer for a little personal revenge. Now _that_ had been quite a surprise.

The firewalls and top notch security he had expected, the woman always had seemed rather paranoid, but the encrypted top level classified files and subsequent abduction ten minutes later hadn't.

Who would have ever guessed that the crazed teacher, ever hell bent on the glee club's destruction, actually was a spy for a top secret agency? The CIA for Christ sakes! It did at least solve the ever pertinent question of how she always seemed to be everywhere at once. Besides, she ran her Cheerio's into the ground like she was training them for Vietnam. His few weeks as a Cheerio _still_ gave him PTSD like symptoms.

Sue had thrown every old, and some new, insults at him once she'd gotten him into a secure facility. She'd interrogated him for _hours_ on who he was working for and threatened every single one of his designer shoes to get him to talk. She had to give it to the woman, she knew how to torture. How was he supposed to know he'd stumbled onto top secret government files?

Once he'd explained himself and passed three different lie detector tests _and_ promised to never speak of some rather _embarrassing _videos of the old cheerleading coach, he'd been cut loose on the sole condition that he show up to the second floor of Langley the following morning. He'd done so and had literally been thrown an ID badge and a stack of files as tall as Finn Hudson and simply told, "Get to work maggot." It appeared that he had been…hired.

The rest had been, as student of drama would say, history.

"Kurt!" The blonde swung her arms around the young man's neck happily. "I'm so happy to see you! Since when were you a robot?" The blonde agent turned to her girlfriend before not so subtly whispering, "I thought Artie was the only one…"

Kurt chuckled. He had missed the blonde. Brittney vision was a beautiful thing.

"Well, to be honest I never expected computers to fall within my expertise, but I injured my knee while dancing for a production of Chicago back in college and I suppose I needed to find something else to fall back on." The boy spoke with a wistful expression, but quickly disguised it by quickly rambling on. "Anyhoo, I'd taken some computer science classes to fulfill my core classes, because I was not about to cut open any frogs and risk getting guts on my Lemaire collection, and it turns out I had quite a knack for it."

"You're still so gay." Santana deadpanned, only really catching the words, expertise, Chicago, anyhoo, collection. _What? Like twinkle-toes said, some things never change._

"Sanny!" The blond wined, detaching herself from Kurt only to tug on Santana's slightly wrinkled jacket, a detail that did not go unnoticed by Kurt's trained eye.

"And by the looks of things, so are you." The boy quipped with a knowing smirk as he eyed her un-straightened clothes up and down, leaving Santana feeling a mix of embarrassment and anger before deciding to simply role her eyes.

"As if you aren't jealous." She sniped, receiving a grimace in return. The three traded glances, before they just laughed amongst themselves. Indeed, some things never change.

The three each retold the stories of how they'd somehow, after four years under the tyranny of Sue Sylvester, found themselves once again, under the tyranny of Sue Sylvester. They laughed at the irony of it all, but at the end of the day couldn't complain too much. Who would have ever believed that three kids from Lima, Ohio had made it all the way to Washington D.C. much less the CIA. She had after all, tracked them down and practically forced them to accept the jobs.

"Speaking of High School, has the trophy worshiping warlord briefed you on our first mission?" Santana smirked, wondering how the old diva would take the news.

Kurt feigned shock, "She _still _has those things? And no, she left that up to you, _Agent Lopez_."

Santana scowled before remembering that she was the one with the information. "Well you know how Sue apparently likes to recruit McKinley Alumnae?" She trailed off, practically feeling the greed for information in the boy's eyes. She reached for her com before drawing up the picture of their missions "package". She turned the com to face Kurt as his eyes snapped open before several different emotions ran across his face. "Hummel, meet Mission Q."

"You've got to be kidding me." His voice was small and nearly breathless. This was a bit too much for one day. Brittney and Santana he could handle. _Maybe. _But Chief Sue had never said anything about the full force of the Unholy Trinity. This was certainty more than he bargained for. He couldn't help the small sense of fear he felt thinking of facing all three of them again. He was practically conditioned to flinch any time he saw the three of them together.

Although Quinn had relatively mellowed out as senior year rolled around, and she hadn't ever _really_ done anything hurtful to him directly, but the out of all three of them it had always been Quinn that really scared him. Sure Santana was the feisty one and always ready to pick a fight, but Kurt was used to that with the bullies like David and the other puck heads. Quinn on the other hand, he never could quite tell where he stood with her. She was probably the only female he knew that in his eyes, could be described as elusive. The girl's smile was disarming. Kurt was _supposed _to be immune to such womanly woo's, but Quinn Fabray was, well Quinn Fabray. At the very least, she unsettled him.

"My thoughts exactly." The brunette agent groaned.

"Aww come on San, It'll be just like old times!" Brittney beamed. Kurt winced at the thought. Santana wasn't exactly sure what to think.

Okay, _maybe, just maybe _the thought of just what her old rival/nemesis/best friend was up to these days, but that sure as _hell_ didn't mean she wanted to see the girl every day.

Kurt and Santana expressed the same sentiment, '_that's the problem'._

Sensing the hesitance and flat out dread from her new teammates Brittney frowned. Why was it so bad having Q around again? Kurt may have his reasons, but the three of them were great together. Even if Santana didn't realize it, their lives were surely missing something these days. Brittney was sure it was either Quinn or a pet duck.

The blonde smiled at her thoughts. She was sure it would all work out. She was always right about these things after all.

While Brittney had been musing, Kurt had pulled up all the data he could find that was relevant to their latest mission.

It seemed that Quinn had graduated from Yale with a degree in English and Psychology. She currently lived alone in a small apartment in the town of New Haven. She filed as an independent for tax purposes and had no dependents. Her marital status was single. As for her form of revenue, Quinn had previously been employed at the college as a TA, but recently resigned two months ago and had no updated financial information. She hadn't even used a credit card since she'd resigned and her phone service had been discontinued as well.

Kurt had also checked social media outlets, but found no connections to Quinn Fabray through any of the usual channels. If she had an account, it was through an untraceable email like google or yahoo.

Essentially, Quinn Fabray was off the grid.

Santana whistled lowly. Never, would she have ever expected that Quinn Fabray would want to drop out of the social scene entirely. Status seriously mattered to that girl. She was practically hardwired. The girl _had_ gone through a rebel stage in high school, but seriously, the only lasted for a week before she was back to blonde and twirling in baby doll dresses.

_Interesting…what happened to you Quinn Fabray? _Maybe going on a mission to find out wasn't such a bad idea after all.

"Well as _exhilarating_ as it would be for you to tag along Agent _Porcelain. _I think me and Brits gots this one." The alpha leader smirked before turning on her heel, the blonde agent following willingly.

The boy scoffed at his new boss as she stalked out of his office, the woman's heels clicking in the distance. When he was sure they were gone, he blew out a breath that ruffled his hair slightly and sighed softly, "Fine by me."

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><p><strong>What happened to Quinn Fabray? How will she react to seeing her two best friends after six years? Will Santana and Brittney ever get to have sexy times in Langley? Find out next time on Your Mission, Should You Choose To Accept It: Mission Q<strong>


	2. Mission Q

**AN: So just in case you all were starting to worry, this IS a Faberry story! Fear not! Sorry if the first two chapters were a little boring, but I had to set the background and introduce a few characters first. And there's going to be a lot of plot twisting later on and such, so I'm just trying to nail that all down. So don't worry! Quinn appears in this chapter and Rachel will make her appearance in one of the next two chapters. I also expect the chapters to be getting longer from here on out. Other than that, let me know how you think the story is going so far! **

**Suggestions are more than welcome! In fact an anon told me that I had spelt Brittney wrong, I had to go back to fix it. How embarrassing! Anyway…R&R! and enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Last time on Your Mission, Should You Choose to Accept it…<strong>

"**Quinn would look really good in a suit."**

"**Well, well, well. Look who we have here. If it isn't the queen bees, Santana Lopez and Brittney Pierce in the flesh." **

"**Well you know how Sue apparently likes to recruit McKinley Alumnae? Hummel, meet Mission Q."**

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><p>Quinn Fabray sighed as she reached the door of her apartment. It had been another long and eventful night. At least by the weight in her pocket, it seemed like it had at least been a successful night.<p>

Fumbling around in her purse for a few moments, her tired body finally located her keys. After a few tries she unlocked the door and entered her sanctuary.

The living room, so to speak, was relatively barren. She had a simple black leather couch, a glass coffee table that sat over a brown rug, and a medium sized TV. Throwing her bag onto the table, she turned towards the kitchen, hanging her brown leather jacket over the back of one of two chairs stationed by the counter. She grabbed a stuffed envelope from her pocket and tossed it on the counter before heading over to the refrigerator.

She reveled in the momentary freshness of the cool air on her face. It was a nice change from the heat of the club. Not that she minded, really. Even though her current carrier was, unconventional, at least to the eyes of her family, she couldn't fault it too much. For the absolute first time in her life, obtaining this job had been _her _choice. Besides, she had to admit that it was actually kind of fun.

Quinn searched the particularly empty chill box for her prize, smiling when she found her latest kick. She popped open the can and enjoyed the refreshing hiss of its contents, placing it on the counter to settle. She grabbed the envelope and tore the seal before dumping a hefty pile of green bills on the counter.

Smiling as the scent of fresh cash reached her senses; Quinn grabbed the can of diet coke on the counter and took a nice long swig, her reward for another hard nights work.

Sitting in one of the chairs, Quinn began to count her tips.

She'd gotten to about three hundred dollars when the lone decoration on her wall caught her eye. Sighing, Quinn bundled the stack of one hundred singles and flopped it on the counter next to her other bundles. She stared at the frame for a few moments, blowing out another frustrated breath before focusing on the old English script that read; Lucy Quinn Fabray. Her Yale diploma.

She tried to feel proud of her accomplishments: a double major in English and Psychology with Latin Honors in both departments, not to mention making the dean's list four years in a row, _and _securing the coveted teacher's assistant position for her world renowned thesis advisor. Yet somehow, the prestige and honor just felt hollow to her now. All of it just seemed to lose its meaning on that day two months ago.

She'd worked diligently for four whole years. Four years of trying to make up whom she'd been in High School. College was her chance to turn everything around, gain a fresh start. She'd worked for everything: gotten a job through work study at the admissions office to pay for any additional comforts, applied for countless scholarships to aid her mother in paying for her college tuition, and of course studied hard to earn every last grade. Quinn Fabray was her own responsible, self-reliant woman and it seemed that she could do just fine without the name Fabray or her status as a Cheerio paving the way for her.

Or so she thought.

Quinn sighed again and ran her fingers through her hair; the pull on her scalp seemed to release some of the pressure. She stared at the stacks of bills on her counter. At least she could say she'd earned every last dollar, not just because someone knew her last name.

It didn't seem fair, but then again it wasn't as if many things in life were, she just thought she'd finally out ran it all when she'd boarded that plane to Connecticut six years ago. She thought she left the influence of Russle Fabray far behind, along with the town and inhabitants of that one horse town Lima, Ohio. Apparently history was a little more difficult to get away from.

A beep from her microwave sounded and Quinn turned to the small digital numbers, stating that 7 AM had just rolled around. Quinn groaned loudly, hands finding messy blonde hair again. After seeing the green numbers, it seemed as though the fatigue from that night dragged down her body and rested heavily on her eyelids. She eyed the money on the counter contemplatively before her gaze traveled her apartment door. Assuring herself that it was secured, Quinn dragged her feet down the short hall into her bedroom. She was much too tired to deal with showering for the night, well…day. She'd just do her sheets later, after all she'd gotten a little…sticky…from work.

Landing face down on her pillow, Quinn blacked out almost instantly.

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><p>Santana felt like kicking the seat in front of her. Hard. There was a screaming toddler and its mother in front of her and although Brittney was cooing over the little devil from the gap between the seats, it was preventing her from getting any shut eye. She <em>hated<em> flying. Okay that was a lie. Santana didn't _mind _flying, as long as she was in the private jet that Agents of her status normally rode. The seats were comfy, champagne was usually included, and most importantly she didn't have to put up with, well, _this._

Since Chief Sue had conveniently _forgot_ that the jet was undergoing routine service that day and _forgot_ to book them tickets ahead of time, Agent Lopez and Agent Pierce were flying _coach_. Naturally, Santana was pouting. _'Damn woman. This is probably just payback for calling her a bitch.' _

Luckily for the Latina, the flight from D.C. to Connecticut wasn't too long so the two women dressed in slacks and jackets were quickly on the ground again. Santana unloaded their shared suitcase from the overhead bin while Brittney played peak-a-boo with the demon-child, whose mother was completely charmed by the blonde.

Santana had to shake her head at the scene. She absolutely loved her girlfriend, but sometimes it was hard to believe that the bubbly girl in front of her and the CIA's top weapons specialist were one in the same. She almost snorted at the mother currently enamored with her girlfriend, if only she knew.

Once the duo had gotten off the plane, after many groans of impatience from Santana, they made their way to the rental car agency. After checking in at the front desk when the squirrely man behind the desk told her that their reservation was for a mini-van, Brittney had just enough time to see her girlfriend's eyes bulge and shove her out of the way before the Latina let loose a sting of Spanish curses.

"We'll be just a second." The blonde smiled at the slightly confused and relatively scared man.

"Are you fucking kidding me, B? A freaking minivan? That's so not cool! I'm an Agent for crying out loud, not a soccer mom!" Santana hissed.

"Maybe that's supposed to be our cover." Brittney attempted to help.

Santana just rolled her eyes and huffed. "I can just imagine Sylvester laughing behind her unnecessarily large desk at the sight of me driving a freaking minivan."

"Aw, but babe, you'd still look hot to me."

Santana smirked slightly at the earnest expression in the blonde's eyes, although Santana would never admit it, if Brittney _really _tried she could get the brunette do just about anything. The girl was really convincing okay?

"Babe, it's me, you know I could make that shit work." She winked and Brit returned a smile. "But I had something a little flashier in mind. _After all,_ we are trying to convince Q to join the CIA, not make her think she's joining the lesbian soccer mom's club. I think a minivan might give her the wrong idea, don't you think Brit-Brit."

Brittney just nodded enthusiastically. She already knew where Santana was going with this. The girl did love her 'toys' and the blonde couldn't deny just how _sexy _the brunette looked while driving them.

Pulling out her phone, Santana speed dialed her newest contact. The phone only rang once before a snooty male voice answered.

"Well if it isn't Agent Lopez. I was under the impression you and Agent Pierce had this one handled."

Santana scowled. "Shut it, Hummel. I needs a favor."

"Grammar lessons?"

"Very funny Twinkle-toes. I'm gonna lets that one go, but next time I won't be so nice."

Snorting was heard on the other side of the line. Santana growled.

"Alright, alright. No need to get testy. What can I do for you Lopez?"

"Look, Sylvester screwed me over and booked me a minivan." Santana heard more giggling on the line. "Don't you even dare try to crack a lesbian joke on me, Hummel, or I swear to God."

"Oh come _on_, you have to admit it's just _too good._"

"Hummel…" She growled.

"Fine." The boy sighed. "You were saying?"

"I needs you to book me a new car. I think you can agree Quinnie won't be so impressed with the CIA picking her up in a minivan. I was thinking…something more like a Mercedes E350 Cabriolet."

Kurt gasped. "Santana, do you have any idea how _expensive _that car would be?"

"So? I _know_ you still have Sylvester's credit card information."

There was a pause on the line. Santana tapped her foot anxiously as Brittney watched her girlfriend with slight fascination. Watching Santana get what she wanted was hot.

"Are you suggesting…"

Santana rolled her eyes. "No Hummel, I'm suggesting you donate money to charity." She deadpanned.

"Well you don't have to be so sarcastic…"

"Of course I do. It's me."

"Point taken…"

Another pause settled over the line as both nodded in agreement.

"So are you going to change the reservation? Or are you not the hacker you say you are?" Santana taunted.

Back in his room with computers stacked to the ceiling, Kurt Hummel scoffed. Hacking into rental car reservations? _Please. _That was child's play.

"Done." Kurt smirked, only to be met with a click and 'end call' blinking on his screen. "You're _welcome!" _He yelled at the dead line.

Santana marched back to the desk. As the man saw the Latina stalking his way, he shrunk slightly at the slap of her heels against the tile.

"Check the reservations again. I think you'll find that I am _not _renting a minivan." The man behind the counter gulped and sure enough, the reservations were for their most expensive convertible.

"You could have said thank you Sanny." Brittney wined as the two walked towards a cherry red Mercedes convertible. Its body was sleek and it looked, really fast.

Santana turned to smile at the blonde as she walked to open the passenger side door for her. Brittney took Santana's hand as she was chivalrously helped into the car. Santana kissed her girl on the cheek before returning to the driver's side. She smirked as the engine came to life and she revved it twice. '_God that feels good.' _ She really did have a fetish for cars.

"Tell ya what, Brit-Brit. I'll buy him a Sephora gift card on the way home."

* * *

><p>Quinn was awake and she didn't understand why. It was far too early for her to be awake. She was off tonight and that meant she had planned to sleep until at least 6 pm and judging by the light filtering in through her blinds, it was definitely before then. Rolling over, Quinn grabbed haphazardly for her watch. She held it above her head and squinted to read the time. It was only 2pm. Quinn dropped her arms over her face upon hearing dull thudding. <em>'Why, dear God why?'<em>

She rolled over again, bringing her pillow over her head to drown out the noise. She groaned when it only got louder.

"Are you fucking kidding me!" She yelled to her empty apartment. She lay there in bed, staring at the celling and listened to the knocking. When it finally sounded as if her door would give in, Quinn Fabray shot out of her bed and stormed to the door with bed hair, a white tank top, and her skinny jeans from last night.

She didn't even care who was at her door, she just wanted to go back to sleep. With a grunt, the blonde threw open the door with the most annoyed face she could muster. "What the hell do you want?"

"Whoa Q, wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning or what?"

Quinn froze. Her eyes were still a little blurry from just waking up and could only discern two official looking females standing at her door, one brunette and one blonde. However, Quinn Fabray did not need to see who was standing at her door to recognize _that _voice. It rocked through her memories like a whirlwind from the past. Several emotions flashed through her as that all familiar bitchy tone played over in her mind; shock, confusion, joy, and then frustration.

"Yo, Q. Earth to Q?" Santana Lopez and Brittney Pierce were standing in _her _doorway. In New Haven, Connecticut. After six years. In…suits?

Santana was looking at her with a curious and somewhat confused expression. Brittney looked a little worried.

"Did you break her, S?"

Air seemed to rush out of Quinn's mouth before she could put words behind it. "W-wh-what are you doing here?" She stumbled with a dazed expression. She had _no _idea what those two were doing at her doorway. She hadn't even spoken to them or anyone really since graduation. She honestly never thought she'd see anyone from high school again. Part of her hoped not to.

Santana just laughed. "What Q? Two old friends can't just visit you with a blast from the past? Must we need a reason to our old best friend?" The brunette spoke with mock hurt.

"QUINN! I MISSED YOU!" Brittney crushed her in a tight hug that brought a small smile to her face.

"I, I suppose not…" Quinn said slowly. Although the three had formed a rather strong bond by the end of their high school carrier, it seemed too out of the blue to just be a social visit. She knew there _had_ to be a reason for her two old friends to visit her. Santana never did anything, _just because_, and certainly not to visit an old friend, but it did set her at ease that Brittney was here.

"Well? Are you going to invite us in to your crappy apartment or what?"

Quinn didn't know whether she should feel comforted that Santana still had her feisty attitude from high school. It _was _a semi-nostalgic situation, what with the reunion of the Unholy Trinity and all. However, the ex-head cheerleader couldn't help but feel a little warm as she was finally released by the bubbly blond. It _was_ nice to see them again, Santana's bitchy attitude and all.

"Sure…Come in." Quinn stated cautiously and backed away from the door, allowing her two best friends from high school to pass by into her apartment.

They looked around observing her modest apartment. They looked around the living room and almost seemed to inspect her TV. It was almost comical, from the way they moved they almost looked like government agents or something. Quinn shook her head at the two as they turned to walk into the kitchen. '_Oh crap!'_

Before Quinn could reach the kitchen, she heard Brittney gasp. "Whoa what the HELL Q? Are you a drug dealer now or something?"

Quinn entered the kitchen with a wince. She had forgotten about the stacks of cash she'd left on the table from last night and now Santana and Brittney were staring at it with wide eyes and wild conclusions running through their minds.

"No San, I'm not a drug dealer…" She sighed, thinking of the best way to combat their crazy ideas before they got out of hand.

"Yeah S, if she were a drug dealer the bills would be bigger." Brittney stated slowly, still eying all the green on the table.

Santana looked from her girlfriend to the stacks of money as her eyes widened dramatically.

"Oh no way…this is too good." Santana held a glint in her eye as a wild grin took over her expression.

'_Too late.' _Quinn thought, already rolling her eyes.

"The mighty Quinn Fabray is a stripper?" And at that, Santana burst into laughter with her finger pointed at the accused blonde. Quinn just stood there annoyed, with her hands on her hips, waiting for the brunette to calm down.

Brittney looked Quinn up and down for a moment, before stating. "That's hot." Santana had to clutch her stomach with her non-pointed hand at that.

"I am NOT a stripper!" Quinn barked when it was apparent that Santana's laughter was not about to wade anytime soon.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Santana got out between laughs, "An erotic dancer? Adult entertainer? Penis Charmer?"

"URG!" Quinn groaned. Throwing her hands in the air and wondering why she ever thought letting those two into her house again seemed like a good idea. "Will you just shut up and let me explain!"

"This is gonna be good." The brunette snickered. Brittney pushed her lightly as if to say 'be nice'.

"Look I'm not a stripper okay?" Catching Santana with a gleam in her eye, the blonde jumped to add, "And I'm not any of those other things alright!"

"Okay, but where did the all the money come from?" Brittney asked. At least someone believed her.

Quinn sighed. "I'm a bartender."

The duo exchanged surprised and confused looks. Santana spoke first.

"You make _that _much from bartending? What kind of _bar _do _you _work at?"

Quinn scowled. "Look, it's not what you think. It's the most popular club in town and no it's _not _a strip club. It's one of those clubs where the bartender's do all sorts of tricks to make the drinks."

Noting the disbelief on the faces of her friends, Quinn sighed and grabbed a few glasses from a nearby cabinet and a shaker from the drawer. She went to her pantry and pulled out a couple of bottles and placed them in a line on the counter. Then, with a breath, Quinn grabbed two bottles and began to spin them and toss them around like batons. As she threw the blue bottle in the air she continued to spin the clear one. While the blue bottle was in midair, her free hand shot out to grab a glass which she moved in front of her, then caught the blue bottle and continued to spin it. Then she threw the clear bottle and used her free hand to uncap the blue bottle and while she poured it into the glass, caught the clear bottle behind her and started spinning it in her hand seamlessly. She repeated the action to cap the bottle and then spun them like pistols and placed them on the counter synchronously.

"Holy shit. – Wow" Santana and Brittney breathed respectively. While they could probably attempt a similar feat with guns, especially Brittney, glass bottles were sort of impressive.

Quinn crossed her arms and waited for the girls' assessment of whether she was really a bartender or not.

"So you double majored at Yale with _honors_ and quit a TA position to do that?" Santana said, still wide eyed from the performance.

Brittney snapped her attention to the brunette at the question, but Quinn didn't seem to notice. She had already turned around to start putting the bottles away.

"Well, to be honest I'm clearing more a month than I would with a salary position. Besides," Quinn frowned slightly before continuing. "I feel like I actually earn what I make at the bar, not like I'm getting paid just because of where I come from."

Santana hummed lowly at the confession. She could understand the sentiment. After knowing Quinn practically her whole life, the girl never really seemed fulfilled with her accomplishment, she seemed to accept one more like a burden than a trophy.

Watching her old second in command, Quinn softened slightly. Despite their serious bickering, it had at least always seemed that the Latina somehow always understood where she was coming from. She was glad to see that at least something's didn't change. Of course Brittney would never judge her, but she was glad to see that Santana, the girl she always fought with for positions, didn't seem to judge her for letting go of her own. _'Wait a second...'_

Brittney was the first to notice the subtle change from shared understanding to skepticism in her old friend's demeanor. She had hoped that the blonde had just skipped over the implications of Santana's questions, but Brittney knew that Quinn was too sharp for that.

They had planned on breaking it to Quinn slowly. Or even just asking her to come on a road trip. After all, Quinn and Santana were quite alike and it had actually taken abduction to get Santana on board with the CIA. And unfortunately, Brittney knew that sometimes the ex-head cheerleader could be even more stubborn than her girlfriend.

"Santana…" Quinn said lowly, her tone was guarded and laced with suspicion. "How did you know all of that?"

And now it seemed their mission just got a _little _more complicated.

**How will Santana and Brittney explain themselves? How will they get the blonde to come with them? Where did Quinn learn all of those tricks? And will Kurt ever get his thank you? All this and more, next time on Your Mission, Should You Choose to Accept It: Mission Get Her to the Chief!**


	3. Mission Get Her to the Chief

**AN: So if you noticed, I combined CH.1 and CH.2. into the first chapter. I was trying to get the story to flow a little faster in case you guys think its boring. I swear more action will come soon! As in, the REAL missions, fun Quintanna interaction, Brittana, and FABERRY! Not to mention Santana slams, kick ass Brittney, insulting Sue. Like I said, even though Quinn and Rachel will be the central ship and the main characters, Santana, Brittney, Sue, AND Kurt will all have major characters in the story. More fun that way. (and quite possibly more characters than that. suggestions?)**

**AN2: and those who are reading Forever More (my other faberry story) I'll get to it soon, I promise! I just wanted to get this one rolling first. **

**and Anyway, here's the new CH. 3**

**Remember to Review! They make my day! (and tell me if i'm going in a good direction or not...)**

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><p><strong>Last time on Your Mission, Should You Choose to Accept it:<strong>

"**Oh, I'm sorry," Santana got out between laughs, "An erotic dancer? Adult entertainer? Penis Charmer?" **

**Quinn sighed. "I'm a bartender."**

"**Santana…How did you know all of that?"**

Santana didn't have to look to her partner to know that she'd, for lack of an eloquent term, fucked up.

Quinn looked like a rabbit hyped up on crack with the way her eyes were slightly bulging from their sockets and her muscles were tensed to run or throw something at the Latina. Quinn had always been a tad bit paranoid. Seriously, the girl always thought Santana was organizing a mutiny to steal her captaincy. Okay, well that was only true about _half _of the time, but still, the girl was unusually sharp when it came to picking out discrepancies and it seemed her suspicious nature was apparently still intact.

"Um, internet?" Was all the Latina could come up with. Brittney actually rolled her eyes. Despite the Latina's advanced skills in the field, her expertise lay largely in the infiltrating secured compounds, catching bad guys, and kicking ass categories. The fiery woman botched her covers so often that it was a wonder that she hadn't been shot already, a fact that probably had to do more with her deadly sniper girlfriend than her luck. Unfortunately this time, a well-aimed bullet wouldn't be an appropriate solution.

Quinn's expression sharpened, the brunette in the room shrunk slightly as familiar shivers ran down her spine. She could already feel the ice cold demeanor of the former queen bitch seeping into the room.

"S, B, tell me what you are _really_ doing here."

The blonde wasn't entirely sure why, but she knew that _something _was up with Brittney and Santana. Maybe they weren't here to kill her or anything, _that _would be ridiculous, but it was definitely more than a social call. Maybe it was because although she had loved her friends, as much as one could love the destructive duo anyway, Quinn had never trusted someone completely. It was too hard for her. People always seemed to let her down when she needed them most and she had just gotten used to only depending on herself.

The two shared a look before Brittney nodded at the brunette. Santana just sighed.

"This is going to be hard to explain…" she mumbled.

Quinn rolled her eyes. _'Well that was never a comforting way to start.' _"Well you'd sure as hell better get started then."

"Well, Brit's and I are CIA Agents and we just got promoted to a secret squad under Chief Sylvester and because the woman has damn well lost her marbles, she wanted us to recruit your flimsy ass for the new team."

Quinn's expression remained unchanged as she scrutinized the dead serious face of the Latina. If the girl thought that she could just waltz back into her life to fuck with her life, then she had another thing coming. Seriously, didn't Santana have a better story to go with? She had expected better from her second in command.

"Well, I see your sarcasm hasn't gone away." Quinn deadpanned.

"I know you think this is some big joke, trust me, when the Chief picked me up for the first time I did too. And it _is_ a joke that she wants _you_. But if I don't bring you back, I don't get my bonus. So get your scrawny white ass in the car."

"Seriously San, you're going to have to try harder than that." Quinn said with a sigh, sitting in one of the kitchen chairs.

"Q, she's telling the truth." Brittney added to help.

Quinn sighed again. It was just like old times, Santana getting poor Brittney to help in her ridiculous plans. She ran her fingers through her chopped hair. She didn't want to deal with Santana's games, she just wanted sleep.

"Brit, I know she told you to say that, but it isn't true. Can you please just tell me what you want?"

Brittney regarded the other blonde curiously for a moment.

"To get in the damn car! I'm serious, the Chief wants us there by 8 AM and we are driving back. No way am I flying coach _again._"

"I don't know what your angle is, Satan, but I am not going on a nostalgic joy ride down memory lane. As you can see, I've got my own life here." Quinn snapped, she was seriously getting irritated with the Latina's attitude. After six years the girl thought she just could barge into _her_ home and jerk her around?

"Q, I know it's difficult for you to listen to anything but your own mouth flapping, but seriously. Brits and I are CIA Agents. How else would we know all your history, because I _really_ wouldn't care to look it up otherwise."

"Your words of kindness warm my heart, S." Quinn snipped with her arms crossed.

"Oh bite me, Fabray!"

Brittney looked at her two best friends squabbling. It was seriously like Dijon view or something. In a way it made her happy to see them together again, but it also made her sad because they were _still _fighting. She never could understand why they always felt the need to be so mean to each other. Of course sometimes their version of fighting with one another _was_ them being nice, but this wasn't it. This was their mean fighting and Brittney didn't like it. Couldn't they see how much they needed each other? They were like that swirly black and white circle that had two dots on it. They kind of completed each other. Well, not in the way she completed San, but in a friendship way, they were kind of perfect.

"Well, genius, that's how I _know _all of that useless information about you blondie. Hummel tracked down all your records back at Lang-"

"Oh!" Quinn nearly barked out laughing. "That's rich Santana. Kurt's part of the CIA too? Who else is a secret Agent? Let me guess, Finnocence?"

Santana threw the blonde an incredulous expression. "What? No, he's way too stupid and uncoordinated."

"OH, of _course. _My mistake." Quinn rolled her eyes. Seriously, this Secret Agent game was getting on her nerves.

"Seriously Q," Santana glared, she was getting worked up too. Being around Quinn always brought this out in her. "You're pissing me off."

"Well if you are such _super-secret _agents," Quinn returned the glare, rising to her old HBIC posture. "Then why don't you _prove it_." She challenged with a raised eyebrow.

The line '_How about I kick your ass in five different forms of martial arts and then handcuff it to your balcony, is that proof enough?' _crossed her mind, but it seemed that Brittney had a much better answer.

Quinn was on the ground, her eyes and mouth wide open, and her hands over her ears.

"Holy shit, B." Santana breathed after a shocked moment.

Brittney was standing with a smoking gun pointing just to the side of where Quinn had been standing and where Quinn's microwave had previously been, now stood a sparking scrap of kitchen appliance. Quinn's shocked gaze shifted back towards what used to be her microwave, to Brittney, to Santana, and then back to her microwave.

"WHAT THE FUCK BRITTNEY!" Quinn screamed, slightly hysterical.

The blonde in question just shrugged sheepishly, sparing a look at Santana, "Well you said prove it." and re-harnessed the gun somewhere behind her. Quinn hadn't even seen Brittney move; she had only heard the shot and subsequently found herself on the ground.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" She repeated. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe they _were _there to kill her. Brittney had just shot at her! "Are you TRYING to KILL me?"

"Oh please, Brit never misses."

"Never misses? NEVER MISSES?" Quinn shrieked, scrabbling to her feet, her arms swung wildly. "She just SHOT AT ME!"

"Not _at_ you, silly. I would never do that."

Quinn looked lost for words. Her mouth gaped as she looked between the two as if they'd lost their minds. Hell they must have. Who pulls a _gun_ on a house visit?

"Believe us yet? Now will you get in the car? I was serious about the 8 AM thing." Santana spoke, walking to grab Quinn's wrist.

"Oh, NO WAY. What on earth makes you think that I'm getting into a car with you lunatics!"

Brittney and Santana looked at each other, hearing the other blonde's remark. Santana saw her girl's lips turn into a slight grin and she returned it with a mischievous smirk and a nod.

Quinn visibly flinched when Brittney went behind her back and the sound of metal clinking reached her ears. The light of Quinn's kitchen caught shiny silver medal as it made its way into Quinn's vision, Brittney dangling a pair of handcuffs in front of the fear struck woman.

* * *

><p>"You did not <em>seriously<em> have to use the damn handcuffs, _Santana!_" Quinn griped from the backseat, attempting to blow some hair from her eyes. The wind was wreaking havoc on her already messy hair and with her hands cuffed behind her; she could do little to fix it.

The reunited trio had been driving for two hours when Quinn had finally broken her furious state of silence to swear at the Latina. She could not _believe _that they had actually kidnapped her from her own home. They were _insane_. Who in their right mind just abducts people? '_Oh right, Secret Agents.'_ Quinn rolled her eyes hard and groaned, the sound being whipped away by the wind. Of course Santana had insisted on driving with the top down.

"Well, Q. If you hadn't been such a _hostile_ mark, maybe we could have done things a bit more civilly." Santana sassed from the wheel, grinning as she weaved through traffic.

"Hostile? You're the ones that SHOT at me!"

"Necessary measures." the brunette attested innocently.

Huffing, Quinn mumbled, "You're such a bitch." Quinn wished she could cross her arms to pout more effectively. The thought vaguely reminded her of another…person from the past.

In the rearview mirror, Santana caught the blonde scowling like a little diva. She smirked lightly and shook her head. It was such a sight to see Quinn Fabray look like Rachel freaking Berry. Taking her hand of the stick, Santana subtly grasped the familiar slender hand of Brittney Pierce who was snoozing in her seat with a soft smile on her lips.

Santana saw Quinn's eyes flicker to her intertwined hand, and the ever famous, slight smile of Quinn Fabray pulled at the blonde's lips. She caught the girl's eyes in the mirror and the blonde snapped her eyes away.

Smirking, Santana added, "Right back at'cha Fabray."

She could have sworn the blonde's smile widened.

* * *

><p>Either Santana had taken the long way home or she'd just let Quinn sleep out in the car all night because when Quinn woke up they were pulling into a heavily secured area. It had taken Quinn a few moments of freaking out till she remembered that Santana and Brittney were in the CIA and could get past the security. She wasn't sure if this thought comforted her or put her more on edge. If getting shot at, handcuffed, and all but kidnapped hadn't been enough, driving past heavily armed guards that saluted her two friends in the front was starting to make the whole CIA story feel a lot more realistic.<p>

Then she had to wonder if driving into the CIA with a handcuffed person in the backseat was a common scene. Quinn shook her head, who was she kidding. It was the CIA. Holy shit it was the CIA.

Santana pulled the car up to the front of the building and parked the car. Apparently Santana had her own parking space. Without even opening the door, Santana unbuckled her seat belt and hopped over the side of the car before going to open Brittney's door. Brittney helped Quinn out of the car, but left her handcuffed, and followed after Santana who was already strolling past into the building.

"Aren't you going to, I don't know, close the top?" Quinn asked the strutting brunette, in disbelief of the Santana's ease. It was a $60,000 dollar car.

Santana looked over her shoulder, shrugging. "It's a rental." Quinn's jaw dropped a little. "Besides, Q. It's the freaking CIA. And bitches _know_ not to mess with my shit." She added almost casually before continuing into the building.

Quinn wondered if her jaw was unhinged. She couldn't seem to close it after watching the Latina act as if she owned the place.

Brittney seemed to understand the subject of Quinn's gawking and explained, "She's really well known around here. Sorta the same reputation she had in high school. Except instead of going Lima Height's Adjacent on their ass, she pulls out guns and mixed martial arts."

Yup, her jaw was definitely unhinged.

Quinn walked around in slight awe as Brittney guided her past another line of security and up to the fifth floor. It looked just like the espionage all of her high school boyfriends had been so crazy about. There were several offices around the perimeter of the space and a floor with desks in rows that all faced a huge digital monitor on the upper half of the wall that currently displayed a world map. Quinn's gaze fell to the bottom of the monitor where a huge office with glass doors stood. From where she stood, Quinn could see gold things stacked in cages behind a nearly comically large desk.

Brittney nudged her forward. It seemed that office was their destination.

As the trio walked closer, Quinn couldn't help but feel strangely reminiscent of something. She couldn't place it, but she must have been having déjà vu or something, because she felt as though she'd done this hundreds of times before.

Santana all but kicked the glass doors open and let the trio inside. Quinn couldn't take in the room fast enough. She only saw the tall back of a black desk chair as it began to swivel around.

For an instant, Quinn thought that the scene had felt familiar because it was straight out of those spy movies where the hero was dragged to the maniacal villain's headquarters and he turns around in his chair to reveal himself while stroking a hairless cat.

Maybe the anticipation had gotten to her, because when she came face to face with _the chief_ she actually screamed. If Brittney hadn't been holding her elbow, Quinn would have fallen over in shock, again.

"Well it's nice to see you again too, Q-ball." Sitting in her oversized chair, behind her oversized desk, was none other than Sue Sylvester in a black track suit. "Glad you could make it."

**How will Quinn deal with seeing Sue Sylvester again? How on _earth_ did Sue ever become Chief of a division of the CIA. And what does Sue want with Quinn?**

**Next time on Your Mission, Should You Choose to Accept It: Mission: The Lowdown.**

**Review? Please?**


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